From the omnipresent One Night Only trailer, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the movie glosses over its terrifying and absurd premise — in otherwise normal modern New York, single people can only have sex one night a year — to deliver an entirely traditional romantic comedy. I’m here to report that it does not do that.
No, the film is very much about life under Sex Purge Law, but where you might expect questions of politics or religion or fear or humanity, there are instead questions of boning. Questions like “Who should I do sex to and why?”
are explored in an episodic format that sees two special hot people (Monica Barbaro and Callum Turner) run into each other over and over but not immediately get busy. That obviously raises more questions!
”) Questions are really the joy of this movie, if you find joy in it, as I did. It tries to answer some, but it creates so, so many more.
The one you’re probably asking: How is this law possibly enforced? Editor’s note: This post contains One Night Only spoilers.
When “the mandate” was passed, three years prior to the events of the movie, all adults of legal age were issued subcutaneous tracking chips with attendant, color-changing tattoos. When you’re unmarried, the tattoos — a little lighthouse for our heroine, the Batman symbol for our hero — are red.
You know, for “stop” (having sex). When you wed, they go green.
But on “The One Night,” as people and brands alike shorth and Sex Purge Day, reds turn green and pent-up singles barely stop themselves from boinking in the street. Largely they do stop themselves, though, because somehow despite its R rating, this movie isn’t like that.
In fact, the movie is somewhat desexed, even though sex is the explicit topic. It is surprisingly amusing, though, if you can quiet your disbelief to only one to two cries of “Really??
This??” per minute.
The movie has sort of misfired David Wain energy, with some truly unexpected gags and pleasantly silly set pieces. It helps immensely that Barbaro and Turner are extremely appealing, both individually and as a pair.
They have the all-important chemistry that makes romcom heads forgive wild, bizarre sins of plot and conception. One of these sins is arguably the way the chips monitor sexual activity, which is basically “science???”
